


Welcome to Dromund Kaas

by Hippiainen



Series: A Light Lost in the Dark [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Aleena didn't want any of this, Awkward Family Reunion, Gen, some sith politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hippiainen/pseuds/Hippiainen
Summary: Waking up on a planet half a galaxy away from where you remember being is confusing under the best of circumstance. But when you add a Sith claiming to be your father to the mix, Aleena is pretty sure her life can't get much worse.





	1. The Truth

The smell of disinfectant is the first thing that greets her as she gains consciousness. Aleena tries to open her eyes, but they feel heavy, too heavy. Slowly blinking, she is finally able to crack her eyes open and take in the room. It looks like a hospital, but not the field hospital that was on Balmorra, more like something in a city. She can’t remember having been injured, so what was she doing in a hospital bed? And if she had been hurt, why wasn’t she on Balmorra anymore? Had something happened?

She tries to scramble up on the bed, but her muscles feel weak and she slumps back on the soft mattress. Something cold touches her wrist when she attempts to bring her hand to rub her eyes. Her eyes shoot wide open as she glances at her wrist, only to see that it’s handcuffed to the bed. She tries to yank her hand free, but it doesn’t budge. A lump starts to rise in her throat as the panic sets in. Her other hand is similarly cuffed when she tries it.

“Hey! Is anybody there? What’s going on?” The agitation in her voice echoes in the empty room. Why is she locked up? This makes no sense, the last thing she remembers is scouting the cliffs. Had she fallen and hit her head? But that wouldn’t explain the handcuffs.

Her heart beat increases when she calls upon the Force to unlock the shackles and it doesn’t respond. A dizziness washes over her as her vision blurs. It’s not just that the Force isn’t there, there’s something wrong with it. So cold, slimy tentacles wrapping around her body as it tries to squeeze the life out of her. She can’t breathe.

“Help!” Each breath feels like a desperate struggle to continue living, “Anybody!”

Desperately gasping for air, she hears something. Steps. Coming closer. Her captor? The man appears foggy in her eyes, she’s unable to focus. “Where am I?” She receives no answer as he takes something from the nearby table.

Fingers tighten around her arm in a death grip. She tries to pull it away, but she can’t. Instinctively she draws upon the Force again. A fresh wave of nausea comes over her, the foul wrongness of the Force slipping into her heart.

A needle is pressed through her skin and cold liquid slithers in her veins, making her shudder. “Wha-what did you-u giv me,” the slurred words are hard to form. Her eyes are so hard to keep open. She isn’t sure what the man is saying, his words sound distant. She, she needs to…

***

She isn’t sure how long has passed when she comes back around. Experimentally Aleena tries pulling her hands, but she’s still cuffed to the bed, the metal clinging slightly against the railing.

“Good, you’re awake,” the voice startles Aleena, making her turn towards it. The source turns out to be a short woman in what appears to be a medical uniform standing in front of a window. The tapping of the rain on to the window distracts Aleena, pulling her eyes to the view outside. Even though she doesn’t recognize the high-rise buildings, the architecture makes her uncomfortable. There’s something ominous about the dark geometric shapes and sharp edges. She blinks, trying to focus on the woman.

Despite her height, there’s something authoritative in the way the woman carries herself. And the feeling that the doctor isn’t all that she seems heightens when she moves towards the bed with almost predatory gracefulness.

“Please, where am I? What’s going on?” Her voice sounds more timid than usually. She isn’t on Balmorra anymore, and she has no idea how she ended off planet. Her memory draws blank, and when she tries to think about it more, her head starts to throb.

The woman sits down, crossing her legs. “Don’t worry, I’ll answer all your questions. But first, I’d like to know your name.”

“Aleena,” the worry in her voice is transparent, her name barely audible.

“Nice to meet you Aleena, I’m Asra,” the woman leans towards her. The friendly smile on her face doesn’t make Aleena feel any better, the whole situation is wrong. “Please, try to stay calm, but you are on Dromund Kaas.”

“No!” She shakes her head, fear and disbelief colouring her eyes. “No, no, no, that’s not possible. Balmorra is at least two days from here. I can’t…” Thrashing against the bed, she tries to pull herself free. There’s no way she’s been out for over two days, she should have noticed that something was going on.

The woman seems calm despite Aleena struggling next to her. “I know you must be scared, but please calm yourself.” A hand is gently placed upon her arm, “And if you stop struggling, I’ll loosen the cuffs a bit.”

Aleena whimpers, her lips quivering in fear as she stops thrashing. Even though she tries to stay still, she can’t stop herself from shaking. Deft fingers change the setting on the cuffs and soon small cords extend from them, letting Aleena move her hands. She scrambles upright, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

“Do you have any idea how you ended up here?”

“No.” She tentatively shakes her head. Curling up tighter, she whispers, “What’s going to happen to me?” Shouldn't she be locked in a cell, or dead, or something? Sith weren’t known for their mercy, especially when it came to Jedi.

“We are still figuring it out. It’s more complicated than usually with Jedi, but your father has been-”

“My- who?” None of this made any sense. This woman must have her confused with someone else. “My parents are dead.”

The doctor only raises her brow, “Well when he gets here we’ll be able to clear that out.” She takes a datapad from the table and her fingers fly on its surface before handing it to Aleena. “I think you should see this.”

Her trembling hands take the datapad. There’s a video on it, and she presses play. It’s security footage from a ship. A small figure is curled up in a corner, it looks like her. The same Jedi robes, same black hair covering the face. It’s her voice, but she doesn’t understand the words she’s saying. They sound foreign, clipped and harsh. Utter confusion covers her face, the film must be doctored, there’s no other explanation.

“That’s not me. Somehow you’ve faked that. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” She shoves the datapad back at the woman, trying to make herself look smaller.

“You are asking to be taken home. The medics found you on the ship in a catatonic state, saying those words over and over again. I was informed, and we decided to sedate you before taking you here.”

“It’s fake.” She shakes her head vigorously, it makes no sense.

“What reason could we possibly have to lie to you?” The woman’s eyes are intense when Aleena looks at them properly for the first time. There’s a shine in them that’s not normal. She pulls upon the Force to wrap around her, to shield her, but the nausea from earlier is back. “You shouldn’t, the sedatives had some Force inhibitors mixed in. Having a Jedi in a public hospital has its risks even as it is.”

Aleena lets go and breathing becomes easier. “It’s a cruel joke. You are trying to trick me.” She wasn’t sure what any Sith might gain from this, but there was no other explanation.

The woman chuckles, but before she can respond, the door opens. Aleena isn’t sure if it’s the man from earlier, but he and the woman converse in a language that she doesn’t understand. It’s clear that the man is the subordinate in this, his voice deferential. If only she knew what they were talking about.

“Give me a minute, I have someone I must talk to. I’ll be back soon.” With those words, the woman departs, leaving Aleena alone with the man. She pulls the blanket around her, trying to shield herself with it. She wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Somehow she was on Dromund Kaas, light-years away from home. And for some reason, someone was playing a trick on her. What she couldn't figure out was why. She was a Padawan, hardly anyone of note. Maybe this was some head game or something. She sniffles, trying to stop the tears that start to fall.

***

Asra lets the illusion fade as she walks out of the room. Considering how the young Jedi had acted, she was glad she had hidden the effects of the dark side. Even if holding the illusion wasn’t easy, she had no desire to cause more distress to the woman. Not that Asra blamed the Jedi, surrounded by your enemy was intimidating even at the best of times, especially for a Padawan.

The corridors are busy as she navigates her way to the office. The truth was that the Jedi wasn’t her problem, no matter how curious she might be about the circumstances. It had seemed that the Jedi had even less of an idea how she ended here than the Imperials who’d found her. Either she was a very good liar, or she truly was clueless. Asra was sure it was the latter, nothing about the Jedi had indicated that she was lying.

“Mortis,” she greets the human waiting in the office, “Glad you could make it on such a short notice.”

“Iltar.” despite the coldness in his words, Asra does her best to smile. It’s been long established that their political views didn’t match, but in this case, she’d be willing to set them aside. “What did you wish to discuss?”

“Something that will make you incredibly happy,” not that she really knew if it would. It had been fifteen years, and it was possible that he’d let it go. But from her own experience, she was sure it wasn’t the case.

“Oh? You want my help regarding the legalities to abdicate your seat?”

“No, something better.” She watches as his brows raise slightly, the look of scepticism is carefully controlled, something she knows to expect from him. “We found you daughter. Or technically she found us, but who’s counting.”

Even though his expression only becomes slightly more sceptical, the tug at the corner of his eye and the subtle flair in the Force tell her that her words have meant something. She might be conjecting, but there’s a chance it’s hope she senses. This had been the reason why she hadn’t told him over holo, to actually see these small things. It might be petty, but in her defence, the man’s views got on her nerves.

“You are certain of this?” There’s doubt in his voice, but she can also hear underlying contempt. That’d be for her. Not that Asra is surprised by that, she doubts there’s anything she could really do to change his mind regarding her.

“Yes,” she lets condescension creep into her voice, if he thinks she pulled this whole thing out of her ass, well that’s his problem. “When we did a physical examination of Caitlin, we also checked her DNA against the missing children’s database. And surprise, surprise, we found a match.”

“I wasn’t aware we were in habit of checking random Jedi against the database. Seems somewhat excessive.”

Asra finally makes her way deeper into the office, leaning against a table. “Only under special circumstances. Like being in a catatonic state on an Imperial medical transport while talking in Imperial Basic, unless you think that’s normal for a Jedi?”

“Hardly.” Mortis takes the databad handed to him, playing the same video Asra had shown the Jedi. The soft words are for a moment the only sound in the room, ‘please, help’ and ‘I want to go home’ can be clearly heard over and over again.

“The medical examination didn’t come up with any apparent reason for this. And when I talked with her, she didn’t seem to remember it.” Asra leans in, swiping the databad to show the medical file. There’s nothing unusual about it, and there’s a good chance the Jedi’s behaviour is something caused by the Force.

Mortis casually goes through the report, pausing for a moment when he comes to the results of the DNA test. “What do you mean by she didn’t seem to remember?”

“She said she didn’t know what she was saying on that video, that it must be doctored. And I believe her, she seemed confused and there was no indication that she was lying.” Asra’s fingers tap the dark wooden surface of the table. “And what’s more, when I said that her father had been notified, she insisted that her parents were dead.”

A silence falls into the room as she lets her words sink in. She knows she should probably mention about the name the Jedi had given her. Though that could wait as she wasn’t even sure if Mortis would want to see his daughter.

“And yet you are sure she’s Caitlin?”

“As much as I think scepticism in most cases is good, I’m afraid that in case it won’t help you.” Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Though she did call herself Aleena.”

His eyes darken as the implications sink in. “The Jedi not only lied to her, they took away her identity.” Part of Asra feels like he’s jumping to conclusions. But then again, from everything that she knew about Jedi, it wasn’t that far out.

“Probably. Not that it’d be the first time they’ve done something like that.” Which begged the question if it was a common thing for the Jedi to do in the name of their light. “Though I’m hardly an expert on this matter and didn’t have a chance to examine her for it.”

If she had thought the silence earlier was long, it hadn’t prepared her for this. Then again, she shouldn't fault him for it, not sure how she’d react if their positions were reversed.

When Mortis finally breaks the silence, his tone is dry again, but she can hear the sarcasm dripping through towards the end. “And what do you want from this, or am I to believe you are doing all this out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Would you believe me if I said I wanted nothing,” and it was the truth, which was rather surprising. She knew that she could have asked for a political favour or two, especially for keeping this under wraps. Everyone involved had been sworn to secrecy and considering that the two people who knew everything were in this room, well she should pat herself on the back.

“No.”

“Well I don’t. You can go on and file it under my good deed of the decade,” or personal reasons she had no desire to tell him, ever.

She takes a look at the time, she needs to wrap this up or she’d be late for a meeting. And considering how tense Marr had been during the whole operation on Makeb, she had no desire to be late for the debrief. Also, more fighting with Acina over resources, such fun. “Look, I have a meeting I have to be in an hour, so what do you want to do?”

“I’d like to see her and decide afterwards.”

“Sure.” Asra takes few things from the table, pocketing a small device and handing him a translator. “You are going to need that, unless you actually speak Republic Basic.”

The glare she receives tells her everything she needs to know about his language skills. She can’t help but discreetly roll her eyes before leading him out the door.

***

Aleena’s eyes were fixed on the window, not truly seeing the view outside. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here since the woman had left. Or since the man had left, leaving her alone.

At first, she had tried to free herself from the handcuffs, but no matter how she had tried to find a way to open them, she hadn’t been able to. Having pulled at them, tried to find a keyhole, to bend them open. Part of her was convinced that she’d need the Force to open them. But that wasn’t going to work. Every time she tried, the nausea came back. It had to be the Force suppressants. Eventually she had just stopped trying.

She flinches when the door opens, her fearful eyes flying to see who enters. The woman from earlier comes in first, closely followed by a man, forcing a sharp intake of breath from her. She scurries to make herself look as small as possible, wrapping her arms around her legs as they touch her chest. If she had doubts about the woman actually being a doctor, she knew for certain what the man was. A Sith.

The Force would be screaming with the wrongness of it all if she could only touch it. But she can’t, and even if she could, this planet would be oozing with the same foulness. She can’t look him in the eyes, the intense red too much of a reminder of what he is. It’s easier to look anywhere else but at him. At least this would all be over soon. What else could he be but her executioner?

The woman, Asra, sits down and leans in. Aleena is sure she can recognize sympathy in her eyes, “Aleena, I know this must be hard for you, and you might not believe anything I say, but you need to know the truth.”

Translated words quietly flow in the room as Aleena does her best to ignore the Sith. If she had glanced at the Sith, she would have noticed how he looked at her as if his eyes were deceiving him.

Why can’t they just end this, there’s no need for all this pretence, to play with her like this. She knew they would kill her, she was a Jedi. So why couldn’t they just get it over with?

“This is your father, Da-”

“No.” Aleena firmly shakes her head. “My parents died in a pirate attack when I was five.” She keeps her eyes on Asra, hoping that if she doesn’t look, if she ignores him, this will all go away. She’ll wake up in her bed on Balmorra and all this will just be a horrible nightmare.

“You might think that, but I can prove that that’s not the case.” Aleena watches the woman dig a small box from her pocket. “This is a genealogical DNA test, you give it two samples and it compares them, telling if they are related or not.”

“How do I know you haven’t manipulated it somehow?” This seemed to be way too elaborate just to trick her, Sith had to have way too much free time at their hands to come up with something like this.

“Because that sounds like a good use of my time.” The woman offers the device to Aleena, whose hand darts to take it before withdrawing again. “You can do the test yourself, without me touching it. And run two different ones if you want, so that you see it also shows negatives.”

“Right, two it is.” Aleena turns the box in her hands, maybe if she plays along they’ll drop the act. She’s seen similar devices before, and it’s not difficult to turn on. A small sampler pricks her finger and a small blood sample is collected. She offers the second sampler to Asra, who does the same. A buffering symbol appears.

“Well while we wait for that, I guess we can continue with the introductions. This is Darth Mortis.” Asra gestures at the Sith. Aleena isn’t sure if the name is supposed to mean something, but the title is enough to tell her all she needs to know.

“Hello Aleena,” the man steps forward, sitting down at the end of her bed. Aleena’s worried eyes quickly dart towards him before returning to the device. “It’s wonderful to see you again.” Even though the translation drowns some of his voice, Aleena is certain she can hear a small crack in it.

The device in her hands beeps, showing a zero percentage and some words she doesn’t understand followed by high percentage. “Well that was hardly surprising. Would you like to run the other one now?” Aleena nods, even though she’s aware there really isn’t a choice. At least this would be over soon.

In almost no time the device was buffering a new comparison, this time with a sample from her and Mortis. An anticipation hangs in the room as none of them dare to break the silence. Aleena can’t stop a desperate no from escaping her lips when the results show a fifty percent match with a 99,9 percent certainty between the samples. She knows enough about biology to know what that means, but it can’t be true. It makes absolutely no sense because if it was true, she should remember.

“It can’t be.” Her uncertain eyes go between the two of them, waiting them to start laughing, to say they were just messing with her. Neither of those things happen, and she can’t stop herself from speaking, just to ease the nervousness rising in her throat. “I remember things, and _that_ ,” she points at the test, “doesn’t match what I remember. I was born on Derra, I remember my parents. They were traders. None of this makes any sense. The Jedi saved me from the pirates.” Her voice is quiet towards the end, almost a desperate look in her eyes. She isn’t sure what to think.

Either the Sith were lying, or the Jedi had been lying to her. But Jedi didn’t lie. They were honest. It was the Sith who were always manipulating and twisting words. But she couldn’t argue with the test, with biology. Unless the test had been tampered with. She really wished that she could touch the Force, to check if they were lying, had been lying. Not that she was sure if she could tell because there was a good chance that the Sith could hide the lies or obscure them.

“There’s a chance that the Jedi did something to you, something that made you forget your actual childhood.” Aleena can’t believe those words; the Jedi wouldn’t do something like that. It sounds ludicrous, she had never heard the Force being able to tamper with someone’s memories. And if they had, hadn’t they just done it to protect her? Because if they hadn’t done, she could have become evil, a victim of the dark side. And if her father was apparently alive, and a Sith, how had she ended up in the Republic?

Aleena quickly pulls her hands tighter around her knees, trying to shield herself from this, from their words, and from the Sith’s hand that reaches to touch her. “Something like that always leaves a mark, and if you’d like, I could show it to you.” She shakes her head as a resolute no when the translator finally stops. She doesn’t want any Sith in her head.

A cold tingle travels down her spine, this is all too much. She wants to go home, back to Lothal, with the people she knew. Almost unnoticeably her thoughts turn towards them. Mariel’s kind smile as she talks about the stars, her eyes shining with excitement at the possibility of adventures. Even Aleusis’ stern face brings more comfort to her at this moment, he’d know what to do, how to deal with this. Her thoughts drift further, to people that aren’t with her anymore. She can’t place why she’d think about Fauren, his kind reassuring words. How she’d find a home within the Order. Had it all been a lie? Had he known? Before she can think about it further, her parents’ faces pop into her mind. The warm smiles as they call her in for a hug. She can feel her wetness rising in her eyes, but no tears fall down. It’s been a long time since she’d thought about them. Maybe her brain was just seeking something safe and familiar. Something not Sith.

Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice that the two have started speaking quietly, their foreign whispers filling the silence. The translator is quiet, turned off to offer the two privacy. Aleena blinks a few times, waking herself from her thoughts. She doubts whatever the two are discussing will be good for her.

To her surprise, the woman gets up. “It’s been nice meeting you, but I’m afraid I must get going. Do take care.” The doctor bids her goodbyes to the Sith, nodding slightly, but not showing deference in any obvious way. Aleena is sure she’ll start crying when the woman steps out of the room, leaving her alone with the Sith. Because even if the doctor was Imperial, she was bound to be safer than the Sith.

The tension that follows Asra’s departure could be cut through even with the dullest knife. Aleena stares at her knees, not sure what she’s supposed to do. It is Mortis who breaks the silence. “I’ve spent the last fifteen years imagining this. What I would say, how happy you would be to be back home. It seems I made a mistake in underestimating the ruthlessness of the Jedi.” Aleena only stares blankly forward, not sure as to how she’s supposed to react, but happiness was the farthest from her mind.

Burying her head between her knees seems like the best course of action, tears falling quietly as her heart beats faster, fearing the immediate future. She can’t stop herself from shuddering as fingers gently comb through her hair. There’s something delicate in their path, in the touch. It all feels absurd.

Her eyes slowly open, peeking from between her knees. She hadn’t been expecting this. There’s a slight softness in the red eyes, and Aleena is sure that the smile is supposed to be reassuring. Even though she knows it’s not possible, a small part of her still hopes that this is all a sick joke. She can’t be sure that the Sith wouldn’t try to hurt her, even if he currently seems anything but violent. After all, the dark side was by its very nature violent and quick to lash out, especially when rejected. And she had no desire to be his daughter.

“I think we need to have a long discussion about all this, but the hospital hardly seems the proper place for that.” Aleena nods at the words, part of her wants to know how all this happened, but she can’t but dread the truth and its implications. The cuffs open, letting her freely move her hands. She rubs her wrists, just to confirm that her hands are free. Her eyes warily follow the Sith rising from the bed, tracking his every movement.

Aleena stands up, the room spinning in front of her eyes for a moment before she steadies herself. She’s glad that nobody had changed her clothes. Her robes feeling familiar and making her feel slightly safer as the Sith’s hand falls on her shoulder, making her tense up a little. He starts leading her towards the door, out towards an uncertain future. Maybe she would find an opportunity to escape, to get away from here and back home. But for now, it seemed that she had no choice but to go along with this.


	2. Tea Supposedly Makes Everything Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aleena's evening takes a turn for the worse when she finds herself having to make conversation with her father. But at least there's food and tea, so it can't be all that bad?

Aleena’s eyes are empty, barely acknowledging her surroundings as she sits in the back of the hovercar. The Sith in front of the car doesn’t pay her any attention, or at least she isn’t aware of the subtle glances, too stunned to notice. She’s glad for the silence, because she can’t really process any of this, let alone make any conversation. Her fingers tremble, but she doesn’t pay them any mind, too dazed by what has happened this evening. In truth, the fear has paralyzed her. The fear of the Sith, her supposed “father”, in front of the car, taking her somewhere. 

The architecture they pass is oppressive, the dark high-rises feeling like they suffocate the people living in their shadows. She doubts anyone would ever feel safe here, and the feeling grows stronger by the amount of surveillance she spots. Not all of it is obvious, but it’s there. Meant to keep the population in line. Something catches Aleena’s throat as a sob forces its way through, how can she ever escape a place like this.

The farther the car travels from the hospital, the lower the buildings become. She can even spot a small garden here or there, and glimpses of a giant wall. She feels more trapped than before. Or had she always been trapped, just not able to acknowledge it before. Because if what she had hear in the hospital was true… she closes her eyes, trying to clear her head. It’s still too hard to think.

Almost abruptly the car pulls to a driveway in front of a large estate, jolting her awake. Aleena isn’t sure how she fell asleep. She hadn’t felt tired, but it was likely the sedatives were still in her system, making her groggy. 

She fumbles out of the car, following the man. Despite the fact that he doesn’t seem impatient, Aleena can’t help but feel that he’s going to snap at her at any moment. She wraps her arms tightly around herself, slowly following him though the well-tended garden. At least the garden seems more inviting than the centre of the city, and a quick glance around makes her see that the whole area is covered in large estates surrounded by even larger gardens. Privacy provided by walls and fences.

She finally makes it to the front porch, each step seeming like an insurmountable task. Giving one more longing look to the gardens around, she steps inside. The door closing behind her makes her feel truly trapped. 

Her eyes try to take it all in. The large open entrance hall, all covered in dark expensive looking wood, the expensive rug underneath her shoes, the massive stairs leading upstairs. Somewhere to her right, she can hear people speaking. The translator isn’t on, but she can hear the authority in the Sith’s words. It takes a while before she is able to focus on the old human man next to him. His eyes are slightly lowered, head bowed in submission. Aleena notices the collar around his neck, her eyes widening in shock and disgust as the implications sink in.

Aleena wants to say something but before her brain is able to form a coherent sentence, the slave bows and hurries off. “Come now.” She’s really getting sick of the translator’s voice, as well as of the Sith and following him around. But she sees no choice but to follow the Sith as he leads her to another large room behind the entrance hall. 

It looks like some kind of parlour, plenty of empty space, but also sofas and armchairs for people to sit. She can’t stop from noticing the artwork around the room, clearly meant to impress any visitors. The realisation also sinks in, should have sank in the moment she saw the estate. Her “father” wasn’t any ordinary Sith. Either he was someone powerful, or from an old family. Or even worse, both. Which would probably make her escape all the more difficult. It seemed all she could see were things that would hinder any attempt on her part.

“Please, sit down.” The man gestures towards an armchair opposite the one he’s sat on. The confidence in his pose is such a contrast to her hesitant steps and the fearful look in her eyes that she’s sure she’ll lose it any second. Her arms wrap around herself, creating a barrier between them, as she sits down. “I’m sure you agree that we need to talk.” Aleena nods, there seems to be no way for her out of this, at least not at this time.

“I, what do you want from me? Why would you bring me here?” She is exhausted, and she couldn’t understand why he’d do this. Even if he was her father, he didn’t own her anything. As far as she was concerned, she was a Jedi and he a Sith. And that came with certain expectations as to how this would all go.

Mortis studies her for a moment, the silence and the intense eyes making Aleena uncomfortable. “I promised your mother I would find you and bring you back home. I’m aware that you must be scared, finding out like this that your parents are Sith and your father a Council member.” 

His words freeze Aleena, her eyes wide open as a panic-stricken fear creeps into the Force. This couldn’t be. “You weren’t aware of my position?” The small shake of her head is the only response Aleena is capable of. Her head feels dizzy, as if her brain isn’t getting enough oxygen. This all has to be a sick joke the Galaxy is playing on her. 

“You don’t have to worry, I will not hurt you.” Aleena can’t believe those words, she knows Sith have no difficulty to hurt others, there’s no reason for him to be an exception to the rule. Or would she be the exception? Because he had said he wouldn’t hurt her, not other people. “I haven’t spent the last fifteen years of my life hoping to find you only to lose you because of my own inability to adjust to the situation.” She isn’t sure what he means by that. What else had he expected her to be?

The sudden opening of the door makes Aleena jolt, turning her face towards the noise. The evening has her on edge already, and everything seems to be pushing her closer to falling of it. The newcomer, another slave with a simple collar around his neck, makes his way quickly to them. Aleena can’t help but feel sorry for him, to be condemned to this life by the cruelty of the Sith. He sets the tray he’s been carrying on a small table before bowing and leaving the room. Aleena closes her eyes tightly, trying to ignore her crumbling stomach at the sight of food.

“Feel free to eat some.” The Sith sounds almost amused as Aleena’s hand darts to take a small wrap from the plate. She takes a bite, enjoying the taste. It’s spicier than she had expected, but it doesn’t matter, she’s so hungry. But if she’s been out for several days, that would explain it.

After she’s eaten the wrap, or devoured it as it could more accurately be described, she takes a moment to examine what else is on the tray. Her hand grabs a glass of water, drowning its context. She hadn’t realised how hungry and thirsty she’d been. Part of her wishes to eat some more, but despite the permission, she hesitates. There seem to be more pressing matters than food. “Why can’t I remember? I should, shouldn’t I? I wasn’t that young, and I can remember the people who apparently aren’t my parents.” Agitation creeps into Aleena’s voice. Sure, they had hinted about it at the hospital, but she needs to hear it.

Mortis sets his teacup down, taking a moment before answering. “The Jedi most likely felt that your real memories were a threat. They would have made you uncooperative and sceptical of anything they had to say. So they either destroyed them or locked them away, replacing them with false ones that would portray them in a good light.”

Aleena lowers her eyes, her voice quiet. “I didn’t think the Force could do something like that.”

“It’s not an ability many possess or use lightly. But I feel they knew no amount of persuasion would work if you remembered them murdering you mother.” For almost a moment Aleena thinks she can sense anger in his words, but then it’s gone. There’s a chance her connection to the Force is returning and it was a fragment of the truth that trickled through the block. 

Realising that she hadn’t thought about the fact before now, the fact that she had a mother, who obviously wasn’t here. Hadn’t the Sith mentioned something about making a promise to her. “What happened to her? Was it when…” the words are stuck at her throat, not sure what to say.

“When the Jedi took you? Yes.” Aleena doesn’t dare to say anything during the small pause that follows. “Indran, your mother, used to work for the Diplomatic Service. Usually she didn’t take you with her, but this time she was travelling only within deep Imperial Space and it was supposed to be safe. Neither of us had counted on the zealotry of Fauren and his need to ‘rescue’ children from their parents.” Aleena’s heart jumps at the mention of Fauren, his name still able to fill her with sadness after all these years. “He and his team of Jedi boarded the ship, killed everyone on board, and took you.” Fauren hadn’t even had the decency to erase the security feed, leaving it as a message for Mortis. Fauren had invited death upon himself by such an act, and Mortis had been more than happy to oblige. 

Aleena shudders at the implications, the Fauren she knew would never have done something like that. He wouldn’t have killed them, he would have knocked them out, or something. Because Jedi never revelled in senseless death and violence. 

“Are you feeling alright? I’m aware this is all a lot to take in.” Aleena is slightly taken back by the worry in his voice, only nodding her response. The truth was that she wasn’t well, how could anyone even think that. But what would saying that change? “Would you like some tea?” Another small nod, tea sounded… it reminded her of safer times. Suspiciously Aleena’s eyes track the teacup starting to rise, levitating under his command. Her fingers wrap around the cup. The warmth is nice though she can’t stop thinking how Aleusis would scold her if she ever used the Force for something so insignificant. 

Slowly, she raises the cup to her lips, enjoying the tea. There’s some unknown spice that gives it an extra kick, making her hum at the pleasant taste. “Was it Fauren who told you that your parents died in a pirate attack?” The abrupt question along with the unadulterated disgust and hatred in his voice when he mentions Fauren make her feel sick. She doubts that he would understand if she told him how the elderly Jedi Master had been like a father to her.

“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper. A strong suspicion hits her, it was likely that this was the man who had murdered Fauren. The Sith certainly knew Fauren by name and had had the motive. Motive to go as far as Fauren’s murderer had gone. She shudders again, the memory slowly washing over her. She drinks deeply from the cup, anything to keep her from accusing him, of voicing her suspicions. She can’t be sure how he’d react.

An almost satisfied smile rises upon his lips. Fauren’s failure was cemented over a decade after his death. Mortis’ victory over the long dead Jedi was not complete, but he was closer to it than he’d been before. He hadn’t gotten Caitlin back, but he had his daughter. Even if she was a scared and timid Jedi. But those would change with time. He had waited for fifteen years for this opportunity, he could be patient for a while longer. 

Aleena almost jumps out of her skin when a holocom beeps. The Sith takes one look at it before rising up. “I’m afraid I have to take this, I’ll be back soon.” 

When the door closes behind the Sith, Aleena sights in relief. Even if she can’t feel his presence in the Force, the knowledge of his nature is enough to set her on edge. No matter his words, or the fact that he is trying to reassure her, she fears him. How can she not? He’s a Dark Council member. She can’t even begin to imagine what he’s done to gain that position, to stay there. 

Her eyes sweep the room, wondering if she could find a way out of the room and make a run for it. Seeing the windows that cover the whole wall, and what appears to be a large door outside, Aleena’s heart sinks. It’s pitch black outside. She can’t see anything. And with no knowledge of the city, it’s unlikely she’d even choose the right direction to the spaceport. 

Aleena finishes the tea, the warm surface of the cup still providing comfort despite being empty. Enjoying it for a moment longer, Aleena sets the cup down. She knows that if she’ll make a run for it at some point she should gather her strength. Because at some point, with any luck tomorrow, she’d have her opportunity to get away. She should probably eat some more, just in case. And she’s still peckish. 

Ten minutes later Mortis returns, finding Aleena nibbling at a pastry. She looks more at ease but tension returns to her muscles the moment she notices him. “It has been a long day for you and no doubt you are tired.” Aleena nods, sleep sounds good, an opportunity for her brain to process this all, to get some rest. “In that case, I suggest we retire for the night and talk more tomorrow.” Hesitantly rising up, Aleena follows the Sith out of the room, glancing wistfully at the front door when he leads her up the stair.

It doesn’t take long to get upstairs and soon Aleena is lead into a bedroom. It’s bigger than she’d expected, especially after hearing the Sith’s words. “This is the guest bedroom, you’ll be sleeping here until your room is prepared.” 

“My room?” She can’t help but be slightly confused. 

“Yes, your old room. It couldn’t be prepared under such a short notice.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought about that, but it did made sense that she had had a room. Not that she had any plans on sleeping there any longer than necessary. 

“Aleena,” his hand falls on her shoulder, and she almost whimpers, “we’ll figure this out. But now you should sleep. Things will become clearer with time.” She doubts that, but this seems hardly a point worth arguing over. “If you need anything, just summon on of the slaves and they’ll see to it.” Her stomach feels upset, the reminder sickening. Mortis doesn’t take any notice as he continues, “Sleep well, and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

She doesn’t even try to say anything and soon he’s gone. She lets out the breath she hasn’t realised she was holding. There’s a part of her that’s waiting to hear a lock click, imprisoning her inside the room. She sights in relief when she doesn’t hear anything. Collapsing onto the bed, Aleena pulls one of the giant pillows to her. She can’t stop the uncontrolled sobs and the falling tears. In no time the pillow spots dark wet patches and she hugs it tighter, the only comfort she has. The exhaustion, everything, it feels too much. Her tears finally dry when sleep claims her.


	3. The Morning Offers No Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in a strange bed, Aleena formulates an escape plan and puts it into action.

Aleena’s eyes feel like lead when she tries to open them. It feels like she’s slept for too long, the grogginess of sleep not wanting to let go of her even in the waking world. Forcing her eyes open, she wishes she hadn’t. It takes some time for her to recognize the room, to remember the last night, but it all hits her with a force she wasn’t prepared for. Tearing up, she buries her head in the pillow, screaming. This couldn’t be happening. She wasn’t some Sith’s daughter. She was a Jedi. And she needed to get away.

Forcing herself to get up, Aleena rubs her eyes, wiping away the tears. She realises her clothes are wrinkly, and the beige Jedi robes would make her stand out on her way to the spaceport. She really needs to switch clothes and make herself not look like a mess who’s cried through the night. She can’t help but smile a little when she notices new clothes laid on a chair. Black might not be her usual colour of choice, but for blending in it would do. There are also two doors besides the entrance, and one is probably a bathroom. A semblance of a plan starts to form, and it certainly makes her feel bit better.

One of the doors do indeed reveal a bathroom behind it. She blinks several times, trying to take it in. The bathroom is richer than any she’s seen before. The dark stone surface feeling cool under her touch as her fingers travel the surface. How can anyone live amidst such luxury? Especially knowing who had done all the work, because Aleena held no doubts about that. A shudder of disgust travelling through her body as she remembers the slaves from yesterday.

It doesn’t’ take long for her to disregard her clothes in a small pile on the floor. She shouldn’t have slept in them, but her brain had been too addled to care in the evening. Climbing into the bathtub, she turns the shower on. The flow of warm water on her skin feels great, invigorating her. Despite the feeling returning to her, she doesn’t linger too long. The less time she needs to spend anywhere near Sith, or this planet, the better.

After drying herself on a way too soft towel she looks at the clothes left for her. Among the clothes she notices a pair of pyjamas. Apparently, she would have had the option to change last night, but she hadn’t noticed. She leaves them, instead examining the tunic and the pants with a critical eye, the idea of dressing in a dark colour doesn’t really appeal to her, but it seems she has no options. In hardly no time, Aleena is dressed in the clothes provided. They remind her of Jedi robes, though the material feels softer and is definitely more expensive. The cut of the tunic is different as well, but it’s not too different from what she’s used to. A small comfort in the otherwise bleak situation. 

Now all she has to do is to get out of the house and to the spaceport and she’d be off to her freedom. Slowly she touches the Force, seeing if she can call to it. A small relief washes over her when she feels it respond but it is short lived when she pulls back in shock. The Force is so Dark. It’s difficult to pierce it, to see beyond the blackness. She knows there are shades, if she keeps pushing, she’s seen them before. But she doesn’t want to, the goose bumps on her flesh a reminder of the deep uncomfortableness touching the Dark has caused her. Taking a deep breath, she braves the waters again. She needs to know if he is still in the house. Because this won’t work if the Sith roams these halls, waiting to catch her unawares. To try to do something to her. 

She lets her awareness drift in the Force, doing her best to avoid the wrongness of it. The too hot and cold shadows that are there, trying to suffocate the small flame of Light she carries. The house is mired in the same groggy Dark but there’s no strong peak in it. Good, so the Sith was away. 

Luckily the door doesn’t make a sound when she opens it, peeking to make sure the coast is clear. Nobody is in the room, and she can see the massive stairs leading down. Had she only gone one floor up? Her memory is bit fuzzy on the details. So the front door should be right in front of the stairs? This should be easy, or at least manageable. She enters the room, carefully closing the door behind her. Still no sign of movement. 

Tiptoeing down, she keeps glancing around, hoping not to see anyone. At the bottom of the stairs she sees her door to freedom, or out of this house at least. Deciding to make a mad dash for it, just in case someone comes around, she sprints to the door. It’s better, considering how she doesn’t dare to call on the Force in case the nauseating feeling from earlier returns.

Her breathing is slightly heavier when she reaches the door, yanking it open. She is about to break into a run again when a desperate shout stops her. Turning around, she sees an elderly woman jogging towards her. The fear in her eyes is clear. The dilated pupils coupled with the collar around her neck enough to bring Aleena to a halt. The woman continues speaking all the while she approaches Aleena. Part of her wants to make a run for it, but there’s something in the woman that stops her. That fear isn’t just for Aleena, it’s also for herself, and mostly likely for her fellow slaves as well. 

Mentally she kicks herself, of course the Sith would have threatened them. How could she be so stupid and selfish not to think about that. So caught up in the idea of escaping not to realise someone was very likely to get hurt by her actions. Slowly she lets go of the handle, the door sliding shut, sealing her in. “Did he threaten you?” her voice is exhausted, a hint of fear creeping into it.

The woman repeats her words from earlier, though her face relaxes, relief flooding into it. Maybe because Aleena has let the door close, or maybe because she’s understood. “I’m sorry, I can’t understand you.” She doesn’t know what to say. The slave’s words don’t make sense, it’s all foreign words, similar to the ones she had heard yesterday. She wishes there was a translator or something else they could use to communicate.

The slave beacons her and Aleena slowly follows the woman, shoulders slumping as her eyes follow the patterns on the carpet. Another new room, another abundance of riches. Though the small room is more sparsely decorated, the furniture is still definitely on the expensive side. It’s a dining room, maybe. It seems far too small to be an actual dining room in a house like this, but the table does have food on it.

Except she isn’t hungry.

She doesn’t move, frozen in her tracks. The slave moves past her, pulling a chair from under the table and motioning Aleena to take a seat. Her feet scuff the floor. Why is she doing this? Why didn’t she run? Because she knew what the Sith was capable of. Especially if he had killed Fauren. They were all in terrible danger. And she couldn’t let an innocent be hurt, not because of her. 

She sits down, rubbing her arms. There has to be a way out of this. The woman pours her some tea before retreating to the edge of the room. She’s going to be sick. But if it makes the woman’s life easier, she can try to do this. Grapping a bun, she tears a small piece of it, bringing it to her lips. Slowly, she forces herself to eat it. It’s horrid, she doesn’t want to. Another piece and another ashen taste in her mouth. She tries to drink the tea, it at least doesn’t taste like ash. It’s almost like… A broken sob escapes her lips, tears starting to fall down her face.

Arms wrap around her, holding her tight as the slave pulls Aleena against her. The warm chest feels comforting, especially when fingers start to comb through her hair. Aleena doesn’t know why the slave would comfort her. She’s done nothing to deserve this. Soft song almost echoes in the room, the words so familiar, like a lullaby. She clings to the woman, tears streaming down her face, needing the comfort at this moment. When the song fades, the woman whispers quiet words into her hair. She doesn’t recognize the words, but one is repeated. She isn’t sure, but it sounds almost like a name. Caitlin.

Aleena still can’t figure why the slave would comfort her. For someone to have so much kindness and compassion despite forced to live like this. Her heart aches at the knowledge that the first person to show her kindness here has probably been forced to live in chains her entire life. Or even worse, been wrenched from her formed life to be treated as property. When she is going to run, she needs to figure out a way to make sure the slaves don’t get hurt, or better yet, run away with them.

After some time, the woman slowly lets go of Aleena. Almost encouragingly, she squeezes Aleena’s hands. “Thank you.” The words fall from Aleena’s lips before she even notices. The slave smiles gesturing towards the food and saying something. Aleena still can’t figure out the words, but the meaning is clear. She takes a look at the things on the table, wondering if she’d be able to eat anything. When the slave retreats back to the wall, Aleena reaches for some fruit that looks at least somewhat familiar. It tastes slightly more bitter than what she’s used to, a tangy aftertaste lingering on her tongue. It’s not too bad, and she eats the whole fruit. She can’t help but wonder how much she has to eat for the slave to be satisfied and let her go and do, something. She has no idea what she should do.

Slowly she works her way through some bread, more fruit, and the poured tea. Everything tastes slightly dull, ashen, the same way the room seems muted. Her eyes are glazed over as she appears to look out of the window, the garden and its colourful flowers not registering in her mind. Instead she tries to figure a way out of the situation, but her brain can’t come up with anything. Anything that wouldn’t cause others to be hurt because of her actions.

Getting up, she realises there’s something she could do. She could send a message, to ask for assistance, to let them know where she is. All she needs is a datapad and a holonet connection. “Do you have something I could write with?” When she sees the woman’s confusion, she pretends to write in the air, hoping she’d understand. The woman nods, gesturing Aleena to follow her. A relief flows into her, with any luck she could contact Master Aleusis and ask him for advice.

When they pass the front door, Aleena sees the slave from last night standing next to it. Maybe just to make sure she doesn’t try running again. Not that she would, knowing the price. 

Back up the stairs, Aleena is led into a large library. The shelfs stacked with holobooks, and actual books, made of paper and flimsi. There’s a large table made from dark wood, and the slave points her towards it. “Thank you,” she attempts to smile, the corners of her mouth falling short. She watches the slave leave the library, closing the door behind her. 

All alone, Aleena looks around the desk, noticing a datapad. She grabs it, opening it. She’s relieved that no password is required, but she frowns when she notices it’s not connected to the holonet. Few button presses later it becomes clear that the connection requires a password. Another thing she doesn’t have. Maybe she could still write the messages, and work on getting them sent later. It’s not like she had a better plan at the moment. 

The words don’t come easily to her. She doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain this to Aleusis, that she knows the truth? That she doesn’t want to know. That she wants to go back home. Time seems to tick by, but no coherent words end on the file. Should she ask him to explain? To tell him she could have handled the truth. Even understood why he would keep it from her. Why Fauren had to take her all those years ago. Because she does, even if she has to convince herself of that. That they had only wanted best for her. 

In the end she leaves all that out. Only the immediate details. She’s been taken prisoner by the Empire, she’s currently held on Dromund Kaas, in the house of Darth Mortis, and she needs help to escape. Aleusis would probably come to the conclusion that she knew. But if she mentioned something, the small part of resentment that had formed in this short time for keeping her in the dark would trickle through, colour the message. Make it worse. Because they should have known this could happen, should have prepared her for it. 

After writing one to Aleusis, she works on one to anyone is the Republic, or even in Neutral Space, anyone who might be willing to forward the message to the Jedi Order. It’s easier, especially when she can take the facts from the previous letter. 

The slight grumbling from her stomach is the only sign of the time that has passed. At least her appetite has returned, if nothing else. Instead of going back downstairs, she forces herself to start another letter. To Mariel. Because the Togruta needs to know, and she needs to talk to someone, to get it all out. Without being judged for being afraid, being angry. At the lies, at the situation, at herself. Because she needs to let go of them. The dark side saturates the air here, and if she doesn’t, it’d be an easy trap to fall into. 

This time the words fall faster, easily. Mariel is a friend, she’s always listened to Aleena, been there for her. And she can trust her to understand. Even if there’s a chance Aleena won’t find an actual way to get the message to her, the idea comforts her, unburdens her heart. 

She doesn’t notice the tears falling until one of them hits the datapad. Confusion colours her face for a moment until she realises she’s crying. Quickly wiping the tears away, she continues. Writing everything. About Balmorra, the meeting and the revelation at the hospital. About the shock, the fact that the Jedi has been lying to her, that her father was a monster. How she’d been drugged, the conversation later in the evening. The understanding that Fauren was dead because of him. The morning, the fact that there were slaves and she couldn’t run away without them being hurt. 

Her painful words fill page after page, the hurt being channelled into words. It’s the first time that she’s able to truly process this all. The time needed to write it all down giving her brain a moment to catch up. It doesn’t help, not really. The realisation that she has never had an honest relationship with the people that had raised her, whom she had trusted with her life. Aleena takes several deep breaths, vowing not to start crying uncontrollably again. It wouldn’t help her. Not now. 

She almost jumps out of the seat when the door opens. So engrossed in her writing that she had missed the growing Darkness. But now it felt overwhelming, even when she wouldn’t touch the Force it was so clear. Devouring everything around it. She couldn’t ignore it, any more than she could ignore the man who had entered the room. In her panic she grabs the datapad, hiding it behind her back. 

“What are you hiding?” Aleena freezes at the words, lowering her gaze, not wanting to see those red eyes burning with the Dark.

“Nothing.” The answer is far too quick as her thoughts automatically turn to the letters. The only hope she has of getting out of here.

Mortis raises his eyebrow, he sounds almost amused even when it’s being drowned by the mechanical tone of the translator. “You may keep the datapad, there’s no harm in that.”

Right, because there was nothing she could do with the messages. Slowly she pulls it from behind her back, no need to uncomfortably try to sit normally while avoiding crushing it. Had he seen her put it behind her, or… no, that shouldn’t be possible. But just to be sure, she does her best to reinforce the mental shields she’s been taught. Even when using the Force feels so much more tiring, so much more difficult, the comfort of the Light out of her reach. She tries to calm herself, to feel the Light for even a moment. 

“I was informed that you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. Dinner should be ready in a moment.” Not really something she was interested in, but it did raise a question as to how long she’d been here. Or how long she’d slept in the morning. A chair floats slightly above the ground before being set on the other side of the desk. She’s thankful that the desk is there to act as a small barrier between them. The Sith sits down, crossing his legs before laying his hands on his knee. The poise and authority so very clear in that simple act. 

“I’m not hungry.” Her answer is curt, as she tries to will the quiet crumble of her stomach to stop.

The Sith only hums, “In that case I’m sure you are happy to continue our discussion from last night.” Aleena doesn’t respond, happy to let a silence fall into the room. When he realises she won’t get a respond, Mortis continues, “I was informed you tried to leave the house in the morning. What was your plan exactly?” 

Aleena crosses her hands, keeping her eyes elsewhere, away from the Sith that seems far too interested in her reactions. “Because it seems that you didn’t truly have any. What would you have done after getting out of that door? Do you know where the spaceport is? And even if you would have found your way there, how were you going to get off planet? No way to buy a ticket, considering that you are missing three things needed for that; knowing the language, money, and a valid ID. Did you realise any of this, or was there something else that stopped you?”

Aleena blinks, shame burning on her cheeks. She hadn’t thought about any of that. How stupid could she be? And did he have to gloat about it? Like he had any right. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what she was going through, and now he was relishing the fact that her first plan had been, underwhelming to say the least. It might have been hastily made, but what else was she supposed to do? Stay here and accept it all?

“The fact that you threatened them if I left?” She is surprised by the small defiance she is able to summon into her voice. “What if that woman hadn’t seen me try to leave? Or if I hadn’t understood what she was trying to say because you didn’t leave a translator? They are innocent!”

The Sith doesn’t seem too concerned. “You seem to have understood her well enough. Besides, I didn’t threaten them, they had their orders and they know the price of failure.” Aleena’s face twists in disgust. ‘The price of failure’? He had just admitted that he would have punished, tortured, them. And with such candour, she’s going to be sick.

“You can’t treat sentient beings like that, like property.” The words are out before she has the chance to think about the implications of back-talking to a Dark Councillor. 

“It is well within my rights considering that they are in fact my property.” She shudders at the words. Despite the matter of fact way those words are said, she senses something ominous in his tone. For a moment she thinks about pushing on this matter, but the fear stuck in her throat stops her.

When Mortis notices she doesn’t push the matter further, he lets himself relax. He should have expected something like this, to know she would see slaves having some value beyond their capability to serve. He couldn’t understand how the Republic could even function with its twisted way of viewing lesser beings as equal. It was also likely that she held aliens equals as well. The fact that the Jedi had taken his daughter and instilled her with such a value system that celebrated outright weakness makes the familiar hatred of the Jedi and their puppet state burn brighter for a moment. None of those feelings pass through his shields. He needed to get her on his side before changing her mind on this. To make her see that the Jedi and their views and teachings were wrong.

After all, his daughter’s Force signature was such an obvious contrast to everything around them. She was nowhere near as blindingly bright as a Jedi master, but compared to the warm darkness of the planet, her light was clearly visible. Cold and unfeeling, but he could fix that with time. There were cracks in it, like in all so young. The reality of the Jedi lies and Dromund Kaas would be able to deepen them with time. So that she would eventually realise, or be guided to realise if it came to that, that her emotions made her stronger, that accepting them made her whole. She would shed the Jedi teachings, even if she couldn’t fathom it at this moment.

“Whatever your feelings on the matter are, Julid is still fond of you.” Aleena’s eyes narrow for a moment, wondering who Julid is. Did he mean the slave who had comforted her in the morning?

“I, why would she? Did you order her to...?” Because if he had... that had to be twisted even by Sith standards. 

“No, Julie’s affections run deep without any intervention on my part. She was your nanny and seems to still remember you as the little girl.” Something that could be used to his advantage in this. 

She guessed that made sense. Why the song had sounded like a lullaby, why Julid had been so ready to hug her, to comfort her. But the idea that her parents had probably bought Julid for the very purpose of being her nanny, to care for her, made her uneasy. 

But it would explain why Julid had repeated that one word. Maybe it was a nickname or a term of endearment, or something. “She called me Caitlin.” The words are almost mumbled more to herself than him. 

“She would. She isn’t aware that the Jedi changed your name along with taking your memories. All to make it more difficult to track you down.”

She guesses that makes sense, it had protected her for fifteen years. Still would if she hadn’t stumbled upon that transport. All because her brain had a way of protecting her from remembering the pirate attack... or not. What if what the Jedi had done to her memories caused those blackouts? That her brain had been fighting it, trying to recover the truth? It was all too confusing. Because if they had known the true reason, and not told her... 

“Well it’s not my name, I’m not her.”

“I’m aware of that.” Painfully so in fact. “And I won’t insist on you starting to call yourself Caitlin.” 

Aleena sights in relief, she had no desire to be the Sith’s, whatever. To play a weird game of names. She was who she was, who she had become over the last fifteen years. “Good.”

When he doesn’t respond to that, she doesn’t know what to say. She wonders if he lets these silences to fall just to see her uncomfortable. Because she doesn’t know where to fix her eyes. Not that she has been looking at him directly at any point. She almost has a small meltdown when he starts talking again. “I’ve taken the liberty to hire a language tutor for you.”

“Why?” Because there was no way she’d be staying here any longer than she had to. Zero need to learn the language. Except maybe for the escape attempt, it’d be less suspicious if she didn’t buy a ticket off-world using a translator.

“Considering you’ll be living here, it would be good for you to learn the language. I have no desire to talk to you through a translator any longer than necessary. Besides, you clearly need something to do.” Of course he wouldn’t want her to come up with more escape plans. Not that it would stop her.

“Or you could send me back to the Republic. It would certainly give me something to do.” 

“Really? You think I would let you go back to the people who kidnapped and brainwashed you? What kind of an irresponsible father do you take me for?”

“Stop calling yourself that!” She isn’t sure where the desperate anger comes from, but she can’t hear him call himself father. Hammering the fact in again and again, as if she could ever forget. 

“Aleena.” There’s something in his voice that forces her to look at him. Into those red eyes. She can’t help but shudder. “The longer you deny the truth and act like this isn’t happening, the harder it’ll be for you to adjust. But don’t think that I would let you endanger yourself, to let you go back to the Jedi so that they could destroy your mind again to suit their purpose.”

“I…” Her cheeks grow wet as the familiar tears start falling down. “They are my family.” A family that lied to her… Where had that thought come from? But did it matter when it was the truth…

Mortis rises up, circling the table until he’s before her. Slowly his fingers tilt her jaw upwards, forcing her eyes on his. “No, they aren’t. They pretended to be, so that they could use you.”

Aleena tries to make herself smaller to no avail. “And am I to believe that you won’t use me against the Jedi? For your personal reasons?”

“I doubt it’ll surprise you but having a Jedi for a daughter isn’t a status symbol. So do tell, how do you think I would use you? People here are already aware of the crimes of the Jedi and the Republic. To them you are one more reminder, but hardly the worst of their offences against us. Maybe I just want to get to know my daughter and make up for the past fifteen years.”

Or maybe he just said that to try to make her trust him. To make her distrust the Jedi. Because part of her believes him, that he isn’t lying to her. And that scares her more than she wants to admit. Sith manipulated people, and there was a good chance that he was doing that, and she was falling for it. Force, she needs to figure a way out of this.

“Which is why I suggest that we’ll go to dinner and you tell me something about yourself. And in turn I’ll tell you something. It doesn’t have to be anything serious or big, but just something about you. Afterwards I’ll show you around the house, and we can figure out the rest of the week. I did my best to clear my schedule, so there’ll be no need to repeat this morning.”

Aleena manages to shrug, it’s not like she truly has a choice in this. It meant that she would have to delay her escape attempt but knowing the house would make it easier. In any case food was a good idea, even if she needed to figure out what to tell him and how to keep up an extremely awkward conversation. Not her idea of fun, but she could do this.

“I’m glad that you agree.” He smiles slightly at her, his thumb gently brushing her cheek before handing her a handkerchief. Aleena takes it tentatively, not sure if he’d touch her again and make her want to run away as quickly as possible. She dries her tears, making sure she grabs the datapad before following the Sith out of the library.


	4. Time Ticks Slowly When You Have “Fun”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aleena and Mortis have their first dinner as a family and it's very awkward.

Aleena makes sure to at least leave several steps between the two of them, feet scuffing against the floor. Couldn’t she just disappear at this moment? Because having dinner with a Sith had to be a new class of cruelty. What had she ever done to deserve this? Was this the will of the Force and should she trust it to get her out of this? Master Aleusis would want her to. After all, Jedi were supposed to trust the Force, for it to show the right path. Even when she could barely graze it. But would the dark side here lead her astray? 

Her thoughts don’t let up and she barely pays any attention to the direction she’s being led. Part of her is surprised that it’s the same room from the morning. This time the table has been set for two with several dishes already on it. The rich aroma from the dishes is amazing and it makes Aleena’s grumbling stomach all the louder. If only her company was better.

“Please, sit down.” The Sith’s words cause an involuntary shudder travel down Aleena’s spine. She doubts she’ll ever get used to it. Hesitantly she sits down, trying to push the fear back. She knows she should release it into the Force, like she’s been taught, but she doesn’t dare. Besides, there’s no way she can touch the Light with his presence blocking any attempt. 

Another slave arrives. It’s almost like he melts from the shadows, making Aleena’s heart beat faster in shock. She is sure he’s the same one from yesterday, the one who had served the tea and the food. The human’s movements are practiced when he opens the wine bottle and pours the wine into the Sith’s glass.

Aleena’s hand shoots on the top of her glass when the slave turns towards her. “No thank you,” she mumbles over her words. She’s never drank, and she needs a clear head for this, so not a good time to start. The slave inclines his head at her, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. He removes the coverings from the dishes, serving both of them. Suddenly she isn’t so hungry anymore, knowing who had also made it. Despite her newly found apprehension, she does her best to mumble her thanks. 

The slave bows as he’s dismissed, retreating back to the wall. His behaviour tears at her heart as a desire to flip the table and scream grows stronger. How can’t they see how wrong this all is? It’s sick. What is wrong with these people? This is all so wrong, bad, horrible, sick, and she just wants to do something to make them realise it. 

Aleena does her best to focus on the food in front of her rather than the Sith. It’s easier said than done. How could she forget him when the Force keeps pushing at the edge of her mind? Sliding the fork against the plate, she stabs some salad and shoves it in her mouth. If he thinks she’s the one starting this conversation, he’s sadly mistaken.

There’s certainly something amusing in observing Aleena, the underlining currents of anger giving him reassurance that the Jedi hadn’t sank their claws too deep into her. Nor taught her manners from the appearances of it as she doesn’t even pick up the knife provided when she starts eating the smoked fish. Paying that much attention to the fact that she only uses a fork makes him realise that she’s holding it in her right hand. He was certain he’d have remembered if she had been right handed, it was such a rare trait around here. Which meant it was likely that the Jedi had forced her to switch to better fit in, to keep up the deception. His hand tightens around the knife for a moment, wishing he would have made Fauren suffer even more. 

She hadn’t realised how hungry she was until the first forkful, which might explain why the food tastes incredible instead of ash like earlier. The need to satisfy her hunger makes her but her earlier apprehension aside. She digs in, trying what appears to be some kind of fish. The first bite brings an explosion of flavours into her mouth. There’s spiciness in it, but an underlying sweetness as well. Her mouth tingles pleasantly at it as she takes another bite. Even the steamed vegetables that she doesn’t recognise are seasoned, bringing out their natural flavours to the surface. Happily, she gorges herself, a good excuse as any not to pay attention to her “host”.

Unfortunately, the silence doesn’t last for long. Only few minutes later the Sith speaks, “As I recall, you promised to tell me little about yourself.”

Technically she hadn’t, he’d suggested it and she’d just been forced to go along with it. Like with all of this. She knows it would be polite to look at him, but she doesn’t really care much for politeness at this moment. Besides, she doesn’t want to see those dark side corrupted eyes. It’s easier not to have the visual reminder, even if the Force won’t let her forget. 

But what to tell him? She is a Jedi, and that should have sated his curiosity. She has no desire to tell him anything personal, anything that might make him think… something. Anything that might cast her as a less than perfect Jedi, to make him think there was something to latch onto. Not that there was much to be told. Besides baking and occasionally sneaking off to see Mariel, there was nothing un-Jedi-like about her. And that meant that there was nothing to tell. 

She shrugs, “I’m afraid there’s nothing interesting about me.”

“I doubt that. I’m sure you have hobbies, or are Jedi not allowed to have any.” Aleena can hear the challenge in his voice, trying to make her reveal something.

“Meditating and reflecting on the Jedi Code.” They don’t sound like her, they are what Kikia would say and mean it. She can’t even remember the last time she’s done the latter. Much more preferring to listen Mariel explaining the plot of some latest holomovie that she’d never see because Jedi didn’t go to movies, at least not on Lothal.

“Those sound more like duties your master assigned than hobbies. I’m sure there was something you did for fun, to relax.” More prodding, couldn’t he just stop?

Part of Aleena wants to insist that those were relaxing and fun, but she’s well aware that she’d never be able to lie that convincingly. Nobody found those things fun, except… the small resentment shows its ugly head. Jedi aren’t jealous, especially of those who are objectively a better Jedi than you. She pushes those thoughts back, this is not the time or the place.

“I-” She should give him something, to stop him from asking. “I bake, for fun.” Sliding the food back and forth with her fork, she still doesn’t raise her eyes. One of her secrets, laid bare, just to stop him from asking.

Mortis can’t help but smile, it was progress of some sort. “What do you bake?”

Why can’t he stop? Hadn’t she given him what he wanted? She sights internally before mumbling, “Mostly cookies.” She can feel embarrassment colouring her cheeks. Mostly meant only, with ingredients that weren’t truly hers to use, with things that people would miss substituted with things they wouldn’t. 

Another silence falls between them and Aleena is grateful for that. When he doesn’t seem to want to say anything Aleena goes back to eating. The quicker she finishes, the quicker he’ll leave her alone and she can figure a working plan to get out of here, hopefully. 

To her utter disappointment, the Sith doesn’t want to let the matter rest. Maybe he wants to keep his end of their “agreement”. She just wishes he didn’t. “Is there anything you want to know about me?” She shakes her head at the question. 

“Very well. I guess free time is as a good place to start as any.” Oh, so he wasn’t going to let it rest, of course not. She hadn’t been lucky during the last few days, so why would it change now? “I’m afraid my work keeps me rather occupied, but I do my best to visit the opera and the theatre now and again.” Somehow Aleena isn’t surprised, opera sounds the kind of fancy thing a high-ranking Sith would enjoy. “I also enjoy solving logic puzzles and reading. But as I said, my schedule tends to be full, leaving little time for much else.”

Right, the whole being a Dark Council member, the Galaxy certainly had a horrible sense of humour. She wonders if she should say something about how he spends his time, even try to show curiosity. No, she definitely shouldn’t. But it makes her wonder about something else. What did the Sith Council actually do, because she doubted it was the same as the Jedi Council. Their role was to guide the Order, to help the Masters, Knights, and Padawans, but that didn’t sound like what the Sith did. From all the rumours she’d hear they- Aleena freezes, water glass raised to her lips. They ruled the Empire. And somehow, her brain had happily omitted that last night. Sure, it had realised that she was screwed, but… Slowly she sets the glass down, trying to sort her brain. 

There was one way to find out. “What is it that you actually do?” Other than enslave innocents and spread misery around? She bites her tongue to stop her from saying that because she doubts he’d react well to it. Much to both of their surprise, Aleena raises her eyes to look at him, the underlying fear palpable behind hers.

Mortis takes a sip from his wine before answering, not seeming to be in any hurry. His explanation is too vague for Aleena’s tastes, but maybe that was for the best. Considering that she understands that he isn’t really accountable to anyone as she does remember hearing about their Emperor’s death a while back. Unless they did self-policing. Not that she’s sure what to do with that knowledge. The less Sith she had to interact with, the happier she’d be. Besides, why would any of them help her?

She doesn’t say anything, only nods, when he finishes talking. She has no desire to start an actual conversation about a topic that sounds like it would involve more politics than she cares for. Instead Aleena helps herself to more food, maybe she should have eaten during the day as she still feels hungry.

Aleena can’t begin to describe the relief she feels when their plates are empty. It floods through her, sure that this day would soon be over. Not that she’s sure how it’ll help her in the long run. No escape plan, and if he’s staying here tomorrow as he’d implied... She sights mentally, wondering if pretending to play along might lull him into leaving her alone and give her an opportunity to come up with a plan and execute it. As much as she might hate the idea, it seems like the best strategy for now.

So when the Sith mentions dessert, Aleena nods, mumbling that she’d like some. Her plan is certainly ambitious, but it’s better than nothing. She has no idea how she can sell it, but she has to try. To convince him that she, something… She might have to lie. Another thing she’s never done, has no idea how to. 

The slave is back, replacing the main course with dessert plates. The thank you leaves her lips automatically. It’s the least she can do. Taking a look at the pie and ice cream it’s served with, there’s something homely about it. She takes a bite, the flavours melting in her mouth. For a moment she’s sure she’s tasted this before. The mixture of sweet and tart, in harmony. Tears fall quietly against her cheeks. It’s something that she can and can’t remember, that’s just at the tip of her tongue but she can’t put it in words.

“What is this. It’s like…” her words fail her as her whisper is drowned by the translator.

“It’s lumilla pie, it was your favourite.” Even the translator can’t hide the underlining sadness in his voice. Everything seemed to be a reminder of what had been lost and taken away. Part of him hopes that anything like this might jog her memory, even though he knows it’s unlikely. At least her subconsciousness seems to remember, which was good. It was far more likely that the Jedi had only locked the memories away instead of destroying them. Which meant he should be able to restore them.

“It,” she swallows, wiping away her tears, “it tastes great.” She enjoys every bite of the pie, only stopping to takes sips of the tea served along with it. Aleena isn’t sure how it disappears so fast, but for the first time since waking up on Dromund Kaas, she feels… safe.

The feeling doesn’t last long, dissipating almost as soon as it arrives. It’s completely gone by the time the Sith suggests they take a house tour. Not that there’s anything else she can do, and the quicker they get that over with, the quicker she can figure a way to escape, or at least sleep. 

The house, or the estate as it should more accurately be called, is huge. They don’t even go downstairs to the basement, and she still feels exhausted by the time they arrive upstairs. 

He only points out his room and a living room before taking her to the third room. It’s a very simply decorated yet large bedroom with two doors leading somewhere. “This used to be your room. I’m afraid there wasn’t enough time to decorate it beyond the basics. You are welcome to personalise it as you wish.”

Aleena can’t help but look over the room. The bed is larger than what she’s used to, it looks like it could comfortably fit two people. There’s also a nightstand, a small holo-tv, a cupboard, and a mirror. Few small paintings decorate the walls, scenes from somewhere she doesn’t recognize. The room feels empty, as if nobody has lived there in ages and all the furniture has been just brought in. Which she guesses is the truth. 

“The bathroom is over there,” he points at the door closest to them, “and there’s a walk-in closet. Of course, it’s rather empty at the moment, but that should be easily rectified.”

Aleena set the datapad she’s been carrying ever since the library on a nightstand. The curious part of her walks to the closet door, pushing it open. Her eyes shoot wide open when she sees it. “It’s- huge…” She can’t find the words to continue. The closet is bigger than her room back on Lothal. Why would anyone need that much space for clothes?

Mortis’ hum in amusement at her reaction. Not sure what he’d been expecting. It was certainly strange to think that what he considered a norm was such a shock to her. He knows she’d find none of this so unusual if she had grown up where she belonged, instead of with those who’d been more than happy to limit and restrain her. To turn her against her own family.

“Did, did- were any of my things?” she isn’t sure how to form this question as she closes the closet door.

“Your property was with you when you were discovered. Though I’m not sure what you’d want with any of it. It seemed to be mostly field supplies. And I’m sure you understand if I won’t give you your lightsaber back.”

Well she could have guessed that much. “I actually just wanted one pair of socks. They- they are a pair of woollen socks with white and red stripes.” She needed them. They were the only thing she had that was… was hers. They reminded her of Mariel and she could use any comfort she could find.

“I’ll see that you get them.”

“Thank you.” Her voice is quiet, not sure what else to say. Because she is grateful, beyond words.

“You are welcome.” There’s a small pause before he continues. “I’m sure you could use a good night’s sleep. The changes in your life during the last few days have been significant, but with time I’m sure you’ll come to terms with them.”

Aleena doubts his words, sure she can understand this on the intellectual level, but emotionally… No, she can’t. She doesn’t want to. She wants to go home. 

“I’d like to sleep.” And to get him away from her.

“I understand. In that case, I bid you good night. Sleep well.” He waits for a moment, clearly waiting for some kind of response. Aleena wonders if she should say something, managing to mumble something that sounds like ‘night’.

She visibly relaxes when he closes the door behind him as he leaves. Deciding to take a shower before going to sleep, she tiptoes her way to the bathroom. The bathroom is even more luxurious than the one in the last bedroom she’d slept in. Why was everything like this?

The shower makes her feel slightly better and finding her pair of woollen socks on the bed brings a slight smile on her face. Realising she needs to wait until her hair dries, she worms under the blanket, socks on her feet. Not sure what to do until then, she tries to touch the Force. The shudder that goes through her at the attempt makes her forget that idea. Seeing a remote on the bedside table she guesses that’s as good as any option. It’s not like she’s ever actually watched tv just for the fun of it. There had never been time.

She can’t exactly understand any of the programs on the tv, but it’s some noise. It also makes her realise that she needs to ask for the translator tomorrow. In any case, the nature documentary she stumbles upon seems like a good idea. 

It takes some time, but finally her hair is dry enough for her to brush it. Except she doesn’t have a brush. Tiptoeing back to the bathroom, she actually finds a brush. Once she’s back underneath the blanket, she runs the brush through her long hair. It’s surprisingly calming, her usual ritual bringing some comfort. She feels calmer than she has since the hospital, which means that with any luck she can finally get some sleep.

She closes the tv, snuggling against one of the pillows. The sound of the raindrops gently beating against the roof calm her even further. There’s something about it that reminds her of Coruscant, and the Jedi Temple. It had been well over a decade that she’d been there, but her mind had a habit of seeking solace in those memories. Thousands upon thousands of waterdrops gently beating on the surface of the fountains. It had made her feel safe, at home. She takes some comfort in the sound, letting it lull her into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The handedness comment it based on [this](http://lordviridis.tumblr.com/post/152632456260/handedness-and-the-empire) headcanon by Badsithnocookie.


End file.
